Season 10: Episode 5: Baby Doe
by Jenthewarrior
Summary: After the FBI asks them to look into the unusual death of a young boy, Mulder and Scully uncover a dark conspiracy involving the engineering of human children.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everyone and welcome to part 5 of my X-files series. I hope you guys enjoy this story. If you have any suggestions for mythos you think might be fun for our heroes to investigate, leave a comment for me.**

**XxX**

**Chapter 1.**

**June of 2011.**

Fox Mulder was dreaming.

He was at home. He sat in the wide sill of his office window, a cup of coffee in one hand, and a newspaper in the other, still folded and tied. It was the same thing he did every morning, finding some inspiration in the beautiful outside world.

But this morning it was unusually quiet.

Iden would have joined him by now, rolling around in his chair before she went to school, telling him about her dreams and her plans for the day, wrestling the dog for a toy. Scully would come in before work, or after work, and tell him about her day. She would wrap her arms around him and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. Frankie would bark at deer who lingered, grazing, on the edge of their yard. But it was all quiet this time, and he dared not make a sound to disturb it.

He remembered why, vaguely. Iden was at summer camp. Scully was working all the time. He spent long days alone, writing profiles.

He watched the brambles in the woods that wreathed their driveway shimmer, and a slim black cat emerged into the open. It glanced around lazily, stretched, and then looked straight at him. It began a path toward him, trotting along with its tail high. Mulder was suddenly uncertain, his memory filled with blood and flames.

Someone touched his arm and woke him.

Mulder found himself staring at a startled flight attendant, who had one hand out as if to touch him again. It was the same man who had refused him a third bag of peanuts.

"Sir, what is your name?"

He was still foggy, but he managed, "Um, Fox Mulder. Why?"

"Agent Fox Mulder, with the FBI?"

"I guess."

"Can you come with me, please?"

"Am I on a watchlist or something?" Mulder grumbled. He dragged himself out of his seat and stretched his long legs, smiling at the curious passengers they passed.

He was taken to one of the divides in the center of the plane, where a curtain hid an attendant station from the passengers. He found a small stool set up in front of a laptop, with a webcam attached to the top of it, and the face of Regional Director Walter Skinner on the screen.

"Well, well, miss me already?"

Skinner smiled. It was the first time they had been face-to-face in months. "You look like crap."

"I had trouble sleeping last night. I think my body somehow knew you would call in the morning."

"You could have saved me a step and taken an earlier flight."

Mulder yawned, "I saw your boys on the news in the airport, bringing in a suspect in the Beaufort-Harold murders. Marcus Rhett, huh?"

"We found security footage linking him to all three crime scenes, which was enough to get a warrant and toss his place and his storage unit. You know those fingernails that were missing off the bodies? He was keeping him in a mason jar on his bedside table. We also found plans for at least two other victims."

"I wouldn't have pegged a famous violinist for beating people to death with a hammer, but there you have it. I guess not all musicians have gentle souls."

"What did the news show?"

"Just you guys dragging Rhett out of his own concern hall last night."

"Good. He wanted to stay anonymous – he _begged_ the prosecutors for some kind of deal – but I want everyone to see his face." Skinner cleared his throat, patting a flat manila folder that sat on the desk in front of him. "Did you see anything else on the news?"

"Yeah. When the Rhett story was playing, it was running on the bottom of the screen. 'Toddler found dead, mutilated, in Colorado River.'"

"I appreciate you mobilizing so quickly. I know it seems a little early to judge this case, but I have a bad feeling about it. It came to us the moment the rangers realized the… odd circumstances."

"Well, spill. What gave you the oogies about this?"

Skinner snorted, opening his folder and looking at the only sheet of paper in it. He cleared his throat again. "His name is Tyson Wakes. He was found just before first light this morning in Alamo State Park in Arizona. He was three years old. He went missing from his locked home in Albuquerque two weeks ago and resurfaced nearly six hundred miles away."

"Not an impossible distance or time period."

"He had fresh incisions across his torso, and he was missing both of his kidneys, maybe more. We withheld that information from the media for now, but they got some pictures via helicopter before we could secure the airspace."

"_Maybe_ _more_?"

"Coroner still has the body, small town thing. We sent an FBI forensic pathologist to assist. It was obvious that his kidneys were gone when the body was found, but the mutilation was extensive and a full… inventory hasn't been done yet."

Mulder was quiet, thoughtful. He had only heard about this case a few hours ago, and even then, only sparse details of some oddity on the other side of the country. But when he got that call, when Skinner asked him to come on as a consulting agent, he jumped at the chance. Scully was surprisingly on board when she found out how young the victim was, and that it was of some medical interest. It might have just been her excuse, because she knew how much Mulder wanted to break up his routine. And it did not seem outwardly supernatural.

She was not afraid of plain old human killers.

"You should be there in a few hours. Maybe try to get some sleep before you land."

Mulder scoffed, "I do my best work when I haven't slept in two days."

"Your point of contact is Agent Nathaniel Flores. He should be waiting for you at the airport."

When he was gone, Mulder went back to his seat. It felt strange being out in the field again, even when he was technically still _on the way_ to the field – and stranger still because Scully was not with him. She was on her way to New Mexico to interview the family.

He stayed awake for the rest of the flight, evading a dream that rested on the edge of his mind. It had been months since the witching festival in Swanford had gone down in flames, months since Mulder had encountered a woman possessed by a witch – months since he had shot and killed her to save the life of another. He had not stopped thinking about witches and magic since then. Mora Gentry, the almost-victim, was mysteriously missing. She had not gone home, not contacted anyone. Her mortgage went unpaid, her newspapers uncollected. Mulder did not want to think she had died, but the evidence pointed toward it.

He was greeted at the airport, bleary-eyed and stiff, by Agent Nathaniel Flores. He was a little younger than Mulder, but his face was harder. He had his long brown hair pulled into a tight bun on the back of his head. He reminded Mulder strangely of Scully when he first met her.

From the airport, they took a black SUV into Swansea, the neighboring city, and from there a helicopter into Alamo State Park. Mulder watched the scenery flash by below, enchanted by it. He saw rivers of rippling sand, sprawling scrublands, and massive boulders split into pieces by some incredible force. He had been to the Midwest before, but most of his remote ventures had involved forests. He was unaccustomed to this almost unbroken openness.

The helicopter took them to a red-brick building built into the side of a boulder. Flores said it was an unoccupied research outpost for biologists working in the park or with the river. Mulder gazed into the dark windows as they walked past, wishing Flores would grant him a moment to snoop around. But the matter was pressing. Flores took him straight to a corral stocked with ATVs, where a sheriff was waiting for them.

"Agent Flores?" the sheriff asked, eyeing them over her sunglasses.

Flores nodded stiffly, "And this is Agent Mulder."

"I'm Sheriff Carina Dorsey, the lead on the scene." She seemed uninterested in introductions. She motioned to the ATVs, indicating that Mulder should get on with her. "Hop on. Do you want a helmet?"

He shrugged, "Do I need a helmet?"

"I legally have to offer you one."

"Right. No, then. I trust you."

She scowled, hopping onto the ATV and waiting for him. He climbed awkwardly behind her, bracing his hands on the metal grid just behind him. Flores got on the one beside them, exploring the controls for a moment before he fired it up and backed out of the corral.

"Hold on to me, not the tray," the sheriff said.

Mulder wrapped his arms around her waist a moment before she jerked backward and spun the ATV out into the open. She raced straight out onto the hard, reddish sand, dodging around low, dry bushes every few yards. Mulder tightened his grip, finding himself sliding from side-to-side, threatening to roll right off the vehicle. Flores came up behind them, a little slower, and then thought better of following closely and hung back and to the right. Mulder could just see him kicking up dust beyond his shoulder.

It was a beautiful place from a helicopter, and somehow even more stunning from land. Carina took them up a ridge and then rode along its peak. Mulder's breath caught in his throat as a wide expanse of river opened up beside them. It sparkled in the midday sun, a deep, dark blue, its shores as placid as the sky, rolling hills yawning out beyond.

"Ever been to Arizona?" Carina asked, shouting above the sound of the engine.

Mulder tore his eyes away from the river, looking in the other direction instead. He had to keep his head to the side to avoid her black hair whipping in the wind. "Maybe once or twice. Never here. Is this open to the public?"

"Yes. But most never come this far out."

"Is that the Colorado River?" he asked.

"Bill Williams River, a tributary of the Colorado. It forms the lake beyond the dam."

Mulder tried to recall, "I think I've heard talk about the lake, but I can't place it. Is it famous for something? Something weird?"

Carina took them down the ridge, skirting a patch of thorns and heading for a gathering of people on the shore of the river. She said, "The town of Alamo Crossing is under the lake."

"The town… is under the lake?"

She cut the engine twenty feet from the group and let the ATV roll the last few feet. Mulder felt a buzz in his jaw from the way it vibrated.

Carina got off first, nodding, "Look it up in your free time. We have work to do."

Mulder kind of liked her, even if she did seem irritated. Flores joined them, glancing wearily back at the desert and straightening his tie. It was hot, so hot that Mulder had already soaked through the first layer of his suit, but Flores showed no signs of faltering.

"So far, the coroner has determined that the body was dropped from a significant height, as if from a helicopter," Carina said as they approached the scene. "You probably already know both of the kidneys were removed, but Dave said it happened while the boy was still alive. It was probably what killed him."

Mulder winced, forcing himself to work past his emotions, "How was the body discovered all the way out here? Who found it?"

"Birdwatchers. They were tracking a pair of bald eagles in the area."

Mulder stepped between the other onlookers – another sheriff, a deputy, a coroner's assistance, some crime scene guys – to view the taped-off area. It was just a patch of reddish sand, stained now with a bit of blood. The sand was scuffed up, but there were no signs of footprints coming in or out. Mulder looked up, imagining a helicopter hovering over, some masked villain hauling a small body out and watching it drop to the ground.

"Lots of scavengers out here?" Flores was asking Carina.

She nodded. "The body would have been gone in days. Between the carrion eaters and the heat, we might have found a few bone fragments."

Mulder glanced at Flores, "Someone put in a lot of effort to get him out here. It must have had some significance. He could have left the body in the desert in New Mexico."

Flores had dark eyes, deep with thought. "Is there anything else you need to show us?" he said to Carina, checking his watch.

"No. I'm sorry you guys came all the way out here, but, like I said on the phone, I think this is just the dump site."

"It's good that we've seen it," Mulder said. "It might help. You never know."

She shrugged.

Flores stared at the dark marks on the ground, "How long was it out here?"

"Coroner estimated less than six hours, and that was at dawn, so it was dropped last night sometime. And before you ask, nobody heard any helicopters taking off last night."

Flores stared at her for a moment, and then nodding, as if agreeing to something. "We have a flight to catch to Albuquerque. If you could take us back to the research station now."

"Busy day."

"It's only just started," Mulder said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

It was a small house, well-loved, warm and inviting – or it would have been, if not for the chaos that had come to their lives two weeks ago. Now there were boot prints on the carpet, laptops on the kitchen table, FBI agents walking meticulously from room-to-room. It would have been a base of operations for the search for the past two weeks, but now its purpose had changed. Now it was the place the family sat and answered questions and wondered who would want to kill their son.

"He was a baby," the mother, Tilly Wakes, repeated for the fifth time, "Who would do something like this? Who would even…?"

Scully had made the mistake of asking the basic question, "Do you know of anyone who would want to harm your son?" It had spurred tears, and questions, and confusion from the couple. But the question stood, and the answer was clear. Neither of them had any idea who would do this.

"Have you ever been to Arizona? Does your family have any connection to Arizona?"

"No, no. We've never even been to Arizona."

"Have there been in issues in your family recently? Any estranged family members you think may have been motivated to harm your son?"

"No, of course not."

"Has your son been hospitalized recently?"

Joshua Wakes, the father, frowned hard at her, "What? What does that have to do with-?"

"No," Tilly blurted, "No, he was fine. He was healthy. Why?"

"Has Tyson ever been the recipient of a transplant? Donated blood? Has he had any pathology done recently? Bloodwork? Any type of diagnostic test?"

"No. Nothing. His last trip to the doctor was when he got his last vaccines."

Scully made note of that in her book.

"What does that have to do with what happened?" Joshua asked.

"Has your liaison talked to you about the… nature of the discovery in Arizona?"

Suddenly the room felt colder. Tilly looked at her husband, and slid her arm into his, and shut her eyes. Scully could almost see the strength draining out of her, watch her weaken. Joshua put his hand on hers and looked at the floor, all the authority in his voice diminished. "Yes. We were told he was… mutilated."

She hated to be the one to talk to them about this.

"I'm asking you these questions because it appears some of his organs were missing. If he had recent medical work, blood draws, or any sort of testing, his information could have made its way to a national database, where it may have been accessible by someone with bad intentions."

"You think someone killed my baby boy for his…?" Joshua stuttered, unable to finish.

"It's a possibility. My job here is to get as much information as I can from you two, so that we can investigate all angles and find out who did this to Tyson. Is there anything else you think I need to know that you haven't already reported?"

Tilly opened her eyes, glanced at her husband, and said, "Tyson was adopted."

Scully quelled her frustration that they had not brought this up sooner, "Do you have the paperwork from his adoption?"

"It was a private adoption, his records are sealed by the court," Tilly said, "We don't even know who his birth parents were." She was starting to shake, visibly disturbed. "Oh, you don't think…? You don't think they found him somehow?"

Scully stood up, stiff all over from the length of this interview. She concluded it, got the address for the hotel they were staying in, and left the house.

Her first call was to Mulder.

"How was your flight?" he said the moment he picked up.

She smiled, "It was fine. I was in first class."

"I was in coach, but I bet I made more friends than you."

"I was just talking to the family." She slipped into a black-and-white and murmured, "Can you take me to the county courthouse?" And then to Mulder, "It looks like the Wakes family has been moved to a hotel for now. I interviewed them in the house, but the place was swarming with FBI agents. Did you learn anything from the crime scene?"

"I think it was just a dump site." His voice came through in a crackle. "I heard the body was dropped from a significant height, probably sometime last night – and the coroner just released it."

"Where are they sending him?"

"Dunno. Probably someplace close by, whatever the nearest FBI field office is. Phoenix?" He crackled some more, and then she heard a car door slam. "So far, our only theory involves the use of the organs, either in some kind of black-market sale or for someone specific."

"I found out he was adopted."

"Oh. The plot thickens."

"I'm on my way to the courthouse to get an order to unseal his adoption records. It might be nothing, but it is possible his birth parents were involved."

"I have a lot of thoughts about that, but it's all pretty grim. Agent Flores and I are catching a flight over there, should arrive sometime after five. God, the FBI is really springing for this one, huh? Ten years ago, they would've made us drive."

"I think all the press surrounding this case is getting to them."

He was quiet for a moment.

"I'm surprised you don't have any outlandish theories yet, Mulder."

"Believe me, a few things have come to mind. But so far, this seems like a purely human crime. If not a really strange and disjointed one. It just seems like-"

He stopped midsentence.

"Seems like what?" she prompted.

"I'll talk to you when I see you. Pick us up at 5?"

He was being cryptic. She had not heard him sound so distracted in years. "Okay. I'll call you if I can get his adoption records?" she phrased it like a question.

"No, surprise me."

He didn't want to talk on the phone. Scully worried he was already seeing a government conspiracy in this, but she quelled that. Sometimes he was right, after all.


End file.
